


universally on tilt

by eloboosting



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Katekyo Hitman Reborn, Alternate Universe - Kpop, Alternate Universe - Porn, Alternate Universe - Profession Changes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 08:58:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6848041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloboosting/pseuds/eloboosting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five universes where Mata & DanDy get together, and one where they fall apart (and another where they meet.)</p><p>aka even without being on the same team, these idiots would have found each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. just barely off the stage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [markerlimes (sunmi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunmi/gifts).



> happy birthday a! tilt with me forever <3 it’s not all depressing shit, I promise, I added some unrealistically sappy stuff to make the angst that much worse!!
> 
> most of these AUs are supposed to be semi-realistic possibilities for each of them. so yeah, mundane modern AUs ftw.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sehyeong and Inkyu still play league—just not professionally.
> 
> They're also female.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genderbent AU, because I thought it'd be fun to explore the lack of women as pros in League and how that would affect the timeline/who won the splits + Worlds.

Inkyu’s not sure why she still comes to these events.

Her ex had been an avid fan, and she’d humored him the first time by joining him in attending one of the matches. But more and more, she found herself drawn to the electricity of the stadium, attracted by the love and dedication everyone in the scene seemed to possess. And so while her ex is long gone, she still finds herself making the half hour trip to the stadium every few weeks, still boots up the game to play during breaks between studying.

A few years back, before university and the myriad of responsibilities she finds herself with now, she’d made Challenger for the first time and seriously mulled over the idea of going pro. But then her boyfriend had teased her about being boosted—even when he was still drowning in gold, the sore loser—and imagined her parents’ reactions to their lovely _daughter_ entering the arena only nerdy boys had ever joined, and she’d carefully filed that idea back with the rest of her wishful dreams.

Maybe in a different life.

Instead, she graduates high school, tests into a respectable university, and spends a few of her weekend nights lying to her friends to sit in the back of the audience and watch a bunch of kids play video games on a screen.

It’s a peaceful existence if a relatively boring one, but Inkyu’s never been one for intangibles.

Today’s the finals of the season six spring split, a best of five between SKT T1 and the ROX Tigers; a match-up Inkyu’s a little embarrassed to admit how much she’s been looking forward to watching. Neither has retained the same roster from last year, with SKT T1’s Marin leaving for China and ROX’s Hojin retiring, but of the two replacements, Inkyu’s only really interested in Peanut. She’s always been a jungle main, and Peanut’s mechanical ability and pathing has been _phenomenal_ this whole split.

And something about ROX’s story resonates within her—the constant struggle and desperation to win and prove themselves worthy, the way their camaraderie actually rings _true_. They’re also incredibly sweet with the most adorable team mascots to exist—so yeah, she’s a little biased.

“Hey,” a voice says from her left, and she turns to see another girl around her age, a wide grin on her face. “You go to Chung-Ang, don’t you?”

“Uh,” she says, wondering if it’s too late to switch seats. “Yes?”

“We share a class,” the girl says, sticking out a hand. “Cho Sehyeong.”

Inkyu takes the hand hesitantly. She’s never really made friends at these events, but it seems impolite to refuse an offer so freely given. “Choi Inkyu.”

“Let me guess,” Sehyeong says, giving her a quick once-over. “You’re a fan of ROX?”

She shrugs. “Yeah, and you?”

“SKT, of course,” Sehyeong says easily. “They’re the best team.”

Inkyu frowns. "We'll see," she says, a competitive edge building in her against her will. There’s something about the smirk on Sehyeong's face that irks her more than usual.

They see SKT T1 meticulously pick apart ROX in a four game set, taking the series in a decisive 3-1 while Inkyu despairs about ROX’s pick/ban. “What were they thinking?” she asks for the thousandth time while Sehyeong looks at her with something akin to pity. “ _What was that draft_?”

“I know you’re probably not the biggest fan of SKT right now,” Sehyeong says. “But would you want to go to the fan-meet? I know one of the players.”

“Yes,” she says even when she means _no_. She’s never really been one for fan-meets, not particularly interested in the players for anything other than their skill. But she finds herself dragged to this one, more because she’s curious to learn more about Sehyeong, who had been surprisingly insightful about the game, making knowledgeable comments throughout the series.

And that’s how Inkyu meets Bengi—Seongwoong, Sehyeong says with a friendly clap on the back to the jungler. He’s nice and sweet, and even if he didn’t play a match during the series, Inkyu had always respected him as a top-tier jungler; she’s always been a jungle main, after all.

They’re halfway through a particularly riveting conversation about the progression of the jungle meta through the years when Sehyeong raises an eyebrow. “You play?” she asks, and then, “What rank are you?”

And Inkyu's known Sehyeong for all of a few hours, but she's had years of experience balancing social expectations and doesn't want to scare off the one girl that seems to know what she's talking about when it comes to League.

"Gold II." And it's not a lie—one of her smurfs is around that rank.

Sehyeong blinks before she smirks, and it drips with so much condescension. “What a coincidence! I’m Platinum V,” she says with an enthusiasm that almost seems fake, and she elbows Seongwoong in the stomach as he abruptly starts coughing. “Let’s duo sometime?”

Inkyu doesn’t have many friends who play League, never mind ones that she can stand to duo with, but the idea of wiping the smirk from Sehyeong’s face is _so fucking tempting_. Imagining Sehyeong’s expression as Inkyu carries her up the ladder is worth the frustration it might cause. “Sure,” she says. “How about now?”  
  
Sehyeong looks almost surprised by her forthrightness, but she shrugs it off easily. "Okay," she says with that infuriating smirk. She looks over at Seongwoong, who gives her a worried glance. "It was good to see you again."

They find an open PC Bang near the stadium, one that Inkyu thankfully doesn’t frequent, and they pay for their time with little trouble.

"Be my support, I'll ADC," Sehyeong says as they settle into their seats. They're getting weird stares from some of the other clientele in the cafe, but Inkyu's gotten used to that through the years.

"No," Inkyu says, not only because support is her worst role but also because it's _boring_. "I'll jungle."

Sehyeong raises an eyebrow. “Okay,” she says. “Then I’ll support.” And Inkyu doesn’t say anything about how much of a stereotype that comes off as, for Sehyeong to be a support main.

She should really try to keep a low profile about her skill, but she locks in Rengar before she really even thinks it through. So maybe she wants to show off—just a little.

“What season is it?” Sehyeong asks, but she locks in Lulu. “Let’s see how fast you can run.”

Rengar’s not exactly in the meta, with assassins being unfavorable and the champion itself being a little too buggy for competitive play, but he’s always been one of Inkyu’s favorite champions and it only seems right to break it out now.

The game is a ridiculous stomp and Inkyu’s never seen a clearer example of a support carry than this game. Sehyeong had been everywhere around the map, laying down vision and roaming with Inkyu to create so many picks until they end the game before the other team can even surrender. Something about walking through the jungle with Sehyeong’s champion by her side seems so _right_ , a feeling she puts to the side to analyze later as she terrorizes the other team.

“You’re not Gold,” Sehyeong says like a fact. They eye each other for an extremely long moment, until Sehyeong shrugs. “And I’m not Platinum.”

“Yeah,” Inkyu says. “You’re Bronze.”

Sehyeong laughs, head tipping back as she almost falls out of her chair. “I’m Challenger,” she says with a smile. “Mata.”

"You're Mata," Inkyu says incredulously.

There have always been rumors about Mata since the inception of the Korean servers—about how they had multiple accounts in Challenger, each maining a different role, about why they never streamed with a microphone or with video, about why they had never gone pro—

"Before you ask, I tried going pro," Sehyeong says with a crooked smile, answering the question before Inkyu can even ask it. "None of the teams wanted a girl, though—something about it being too distracting."

There’s a tightness in Sehyeong’s eyes, a bite to her tone, and Inkyu knows it’s not a joke or something Sehyeong takes lightly. And if Sehyeong—if _Mata_ can’t impress a coach enough to take a chance on her? It was right for Inkyu to not try, because she never had a fucking chance.

“DanDy,” she offers, and Sehyeong’s eyes brighten with recognition.

“I’ve played with you before,” Sehyeong says, and then like an accusation, “You’re not in Challenger right now.”

“University.” Inkyu shrugs. “I don’t have the same amount of time anymore.”

Sehyeong nods companionably and they lapse back into silence, looking at the front pages of their clients with blank stares. “Another game?” Sehyeong asks, and Inkyu agrees out of relief. She even takes the ADC role thrust upon her, until—

Until Sehyeong locks in Gnar. As a _support_.

“You’re trading,” Inkyu says flatly.

“It works,” Sehyeong says with a smile. “Trust me.”

And against her better judgment, Inkyu does.

-

Sehyeong's not pretty—not in the conventional sense anyway, but Inkyu still finds herself charmed all the same. There's a similar bitterness to her, the same regret over lost opportunities.

She’s not usually the type to hook up with guys she’s just met, never mind a _girl_ —and they literally have _just_ met, having known each other for a total of seven hours now—but there’s something about Sehyeong that draws her in. Maybe it’s the miraculous wins they pulled off at the PC Bang or the three bottles of soju they shared afterward—for whatever reason, when Sehyeong takes her hand and asks her to come home with her, Inkyu says yes.

It’s when the door shuts behind them that the nerves really start to settle in, a sort of anxiety over the lack of experience Inkyu has dealing with these kind of situations.

"I’ve never done this before," Sehyeong says with wide eyes. “I’ve never _wanted_ to do this before.”

Inkyu frowns. “You think _I_ have?”

“I—I guess not.” Sehyeong looks at her and tentatively leans in for a kiss.

It’s different than with guys—softer, less forceful, and with significantly less tongue. Sehyeong’s hands slowly move up to cup her breasts through her shirt, cautious in a way that seems almost too delicate.

“You can—” Inkyu reaches down to lift her shirt, tossing it to the side while Sehyeong watches with an almost blank expression on her face.

“Um,” Sehyeong says. “Oh.”

Inkyu looks down at her bra and hesitantly reaches behind her to undo the clasp. “Are we—”

Sehyeong visibly swallows. “You can put those in my room,” she says, looking as awkward and tense as Inkyu feels. “Over—” Sehyeong turns and walks toward one of the doorways.

Which is how they end up standing in Sehyeong’s bedroom, Inkyu without her shirt and bra with Sehyeong still fully clothed. “Uh,” Inkyu says. “So.”

Sehyeong tugs her by the hand, laying Inkyu on the bed and crawling on top of her. She seems to have given up on talking, and Inkyu figures that’s for the best. Kissing is a familiar constant, something that doesn’t seem that much different with a girl than with a boy now that she tries it for the second time, but then Sehyeong breaks away to start moving further down and Inkyu feels a hand against the edge of her jeans.

“No,” she says, and Sehyeong immediately stops. “I mean, can we just—”

“Yes,” Sehyeong immediately says, and her hands move up back to Inkyu’s waist, stroke up her sides in a soothing fashion.

And it’s not that Inkyu’s not aroused or horny—not that she doesn’t want to get off, but this sort of intimacy is comfortable and fulfilling in its own way. Sehyeong’s hands don’t go past her jeans for the rest of the night, and they eventually fall asleep that way, curled up against each other in bed.

-

Inkyu wakes up to Sehyeong snoring into her face, and she panics for a split second about her surroundings before she finds her phone on the nightstand and realizes it’s the weekend, she has nothing planned, and it’s seven o’clock in the morning. She turns back to Sehyeong, takes in the terrible hair and the unflattering expression on her face, and pokes her until she stirs.

“Shut up,” she says as Sehyeong blinks sleepily at her. “You’re loud.”

“Oh,” Sehyeong says, then rolls Inkyu over until they’re spooning and tucks her head against Inkyu’s shoulder. It’s not the most comfortable position, but it stops Sehyeong’s snoring, and that’s enough for the moment.

 

The next time Inkyu wakes up, it’s because someone’s jabbing an elbow into her ribs. “What?” she asks irritably.

“You’re sleeping on my arm,” Sehyeong complains. “I can’t even feel it anymore.”

That would explain the weird crick in her side, and she shifts to let Sehyeong pry her arm away. “Keep it closer to you next time, it’s uncomfortable.”

There’s a flick of a finger against her forehead and she swats at it. “Uncomfortable for you,” Sehyeong says. “Okay.”

 

The third time Inkyu wakes up, it's to Sehyeong pinching her on the cheek. Her glare is enough to get Sehyeong to stop, but it's still slightly sore after.

"That hurts," she says crossly. "What do you want?"

"Just checking to make sure you were real." Sehyeong leans in to press a kiss against the offended cheek. "I'm sorry."

Inkyu still narrows her eyes. "Pinch yourself next time," she says, but there's no real heat in it. She shifts over to check her phone again: 10am, and sighs as she rolls out of bed.

Sehyeong props her head on an arm as Inkyu searches around the room for her clothes. "Leaving already?" Sehyeong asks, and Inkyu tries not to read into the note of disappointment in her voice.

"Get out of bed," she says in lieu of an answer. "We're getting food and then we're 1v1'ing."

And the way Sehyeong brightens and throws the blanket from her to join Inkyu’s hunt for clothes does absolutely nothing to her heart. Really.

-

It turns out they do, indeed, share a class at Chung-Ang. Sehyeong sidles up to her during lecture, hanging her bag against the chair as she sets up her laptop.

"Would you want to watch MSI together?" she asks, as hesitant and tentative as she was the night Inkyu spent at her place.

"Sure," she says, tilts her head to the side as she scans the pitiful amount of notes Sehyeong has for the class. "Would you want to study together, too?"

 

After they’ve managed to locate an empty spot in the library and thirty minutes into actual studying, Sehyeong looks up from her laptop to squint at her. “Let me guess, you were a fan of Samsung Blue, too.”

Inkyu frowns and looks up from her work. "So what if I was?”

Sehyeong rolls her eyes. “You’re so predictable.”

"Says the SKT fan," Inkyu retorts. "I like an underdog, whatever."

"They won Worlds," Sehyeong says dryly, but she doesn't say anything more. Sure, Samsung Blue had won 2014 Worlds—Inkyu had been cheering her heart out in the stadium along with the rest of Korea—just like they'd won 2014 OGN Spring and Summer, but it had been the predominating opinion that they hadn’t reached their peak when they’d split up at the end of the year, were never truly pressured by any other team.

And maybe that had something to do with their sister team, Samsung White, which hadn't quite hit the stride people expected from them.

-

Two weeks later finds them settling in on the tiny couch Inkyu has in her apartment, a blanket over both their laps as they watch the team introductions for MSI. SKT T1 walk across the stage to bow and wave to the crowd, and something about that visual is so incredibly jarring to her.

"If things had been a little different," Inkyu says, letting the words trail off about what could have been. She doesn’t let her eyes move from the laptop screen, watching the pick/ban even though it’s not nearly interesting enough to occupy her full attention.

Sehyeong nudges her with a shoulder, leaning in to peck her on the cheek. "Do you think we still would've met?" she asks, and before Inkyu can reply, "Who knows, maybe we would've been on the same team."

"No way, I'm so much better than you," Inkyu says, and laughs as Sehyeong scowls at her and lightly elbows her in the ribs. "Yeah, maybe," she concedes. "And maybe we would've won Worlds. But you'd probably have murdered our team before we got there. Beaten to death by your keyboard."

"Probably," Sehyeong says with a smile, wrapping an arm around Inkyu’s shoulders. "But I'd have kept you alive. I would've liked you."

Inkyu turns back to the screen, watching the montage of SKT T1’s accomplishments flood across the screen— _2013 OGN Spring Champions, 2013 World Champions, 2013 OGN Winter Champ_ —curling closer to Sehyeong as she tries not to think of what could have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mata & Bengi knowing each other is canon~ Mata's also stated in interview that he'd only come back to Korea to compete on the strongest team...aka, he's a SKT T1 fan through and through.
> 
> ROX now has a mechanically oppressive jungler, ofc that gets Dandy hot. The kitty launcher duo (Rengar & Lulu) is coined by the LPL casters.


	2. a good education is the greatest gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sehyeong plays soccer, Inkyu studies, and they have a bitter rivalry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mata picked his tagname after Juan Mata. That's the full inspiration for this one.

He and Inkyu have shared the same homeroom since their first year of high school, and it’s been a fucking disaster from the beginning. It started when the teacher sorted their seating order alphabetically and they found themselves at adjacent desks—or maybe it started when he accidentally kicked a soccer ball straight into Inkyu's face one time after school.

To be fair, he’d been practicing against a wall and Inkyu and Seungbin had been sneaking around looking for a place to smoke—it's not his fault the ball rebounded at an awkward angle.

Seungbin had collapsed into laughter, while Inkyu had stood so terrifyingly still as the ball dropped to the ground.

"Sorry," he'd called out, but the dead-eyed stare Inkyu had given in reply made it extremely clear how completely not-forgiven he’d been. And maybe that would've been the end to their interactions if Seungbin hadn't taken a shine to him, skipping up to him with a cocky grin.

“I’m Seungbin,” he’d said before waving behind him, “That’s Inkyu. I think we’re in homeroom together.”

And, God knows why, they end up with the same group of friends and in the same homeroom for the next two years.

 

Sehyeong probably knows Inkyu's scores better than his own at this point. It’s an ongoing battle they’ve been locked into since their first exam had been passed back and they’d found out they’d tied in score.

This exam is no different, although Sehyeong had had a soccer game cut into his study time. It’s become something of a tradition between them, to keep their test papers face down until lunchtime where they’d flip them simultaneously and compare.

“Tied for the worst scores of us all,” Seungbin jeers.

Sehyeong catches Seungbin in a headlock, digging a fist into his head. "You have the worst scores, you dolt. I've seen your tests."

To their side, Hyeongseok keeps eating his lunch silently, concentration solely captured by his meal. But it’s not like he really needs to pay them any mind—as the top student in their grade, they probably barely register as people, never mind _competition_ to him.

Inkyu pulls a face at their papers before carefully filing it in with the rest of his exams in a folder. “Next time,” he says, voice full of determination.

“You know, it’s not really fair to compare grades,” Sehyeong says, finally letting go of Seungbin’s head after his constant squirming becomes too annoying. “I had a game and didn’t have as much time to study as you—I totally could’ve beaten you if I had more time.”

Inkyu narrows his eyes. “I could beat you at soccer.”

And—just, no.

“1v1 after school,” Sehyeong challenges, and is all too surprised when Inkyu agrees.

- 

Inspired by his favorite player Juan Mata, Sehyeong’s been playing soccer since elementary school. A few of his friends had tried to lure him into the world of video games, but he hadn’t followed, too drawn in by the strategic complexity and pure physical exhilaration of soccer.

And honestly, Sehyeong’s _good_ at soccer. He’s never seen Inkyu in PE, but his skinny stature is as good a sign as any that he doesn’t play sports regularly, and this whole competition thing is only really going to end one way.

“Okay,” he says, casually bouncing a ball commandeered from the soccer club’s storage between the tip of his foot and his heel. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Inkyu raises an eyebrow. “Scared?”

Sehyeong frowns, neatly landing the ball between his feet. “Never mind. How many goals do you want me to score?”

“Best of five,” Inkyu says steadily, and to his credit, he stands with a confidence on the field that almost has Sehyeong convinced he has some semblance of an idea of what he’s doing.

But talk and appearances are cheap.

He runs circles around Inkyu on the field, deliberately slowing his pace so Inkyu can just catch up and tire himself out. By his second goal, Sehyeong’s broken into a light sweat, but Inkyu is bent over, elbows on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

Call it one of his many flaws, but Sehyeong’s never been the most gracious of winners. So he can’t help himself when he teases, “Just one more!”

Inkyu’s brow creases, a steely flintiness in his glare as he straightens his back. “Just kick the ball.”

So Sehyeong does, kicking the ball back and to the side in a fluid maneuver that’s tripped Inkyu up multiple times already. But this time, Inkyu doesn’t try to follow the ball, instead barreling straight into Sehyeong and tackling him to the ground.

The surprise hits him harder than the actual fall, air knocked straight out of his lungs as he finds himself completely winded for the first time during their match. “That’s cheating,” he manages to wheeze out. “You can’t just push people to the ground.”

“Shut up,” Inkyu grits out before leaning in to kiss Sehyeong.

 _Kiss_ being a relatively loose term for the way their heads knock together and Inkyu tries to push his tongue into Sehyeong’s mouth. And it honestly just feels really fucking _weird_ , with the way his back hurts from hitting the ground and the headache building from the rough way Inkyu had shoved his face against his.

He pushes against Inkyu’s chest, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Are you—are we?”

“Shut up,” Inkyu repeats steadily. “And kiss me back.”

Sehyeong blinks dumbly. “Okay,” he says slowly, and doesn’t protest when Inkyu leans in more gently this time to press a kiss against his lips.

- 

(Sehyeong briefly thinks about reminding Inkyu about the match—the match he was about to _win_ , even—but making out with Inkyu is turning out to be better than any victory. Especially when Inkyu eventually rolls off him and pulls him to his feet, stating quite plainly that his parents aren’t home.

He doesn’t let go of Inkyu’s hand the whole walk back.)


	3. severe weather warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inkyu and Sehyeong are both Guardians to the Vongola successor, Hyukkyu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Katekyo Hitman Reborn](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reborn!) AU
> 
> Essentially, Deft's the successor to an Italian mafia family called the Vongola. He has six chosen Guardians that each represent an element (that usually reflects on their personality.) They all get super special weapons and rings with "dying will flames" that have different qualities and etc.

Honestly, Sehyeong’s lived a pretty fulfilling life.

He graduated university near the top of his class, works for a respectable company (in name, at least) that his parents can be proud of, and has a close group of friends he wouldn’t trade for anything.

There are very few decisions that Sehyeong truly regrets making—that terrible haircut he had in junior high that took months to grow out will forever haunt him—and even on the brink of death, bleeding out in some shady alleyway while a gang of extremely dangerous men try to track him down, he’s pretty content. How could he bring himself to begrudge the boy—the _man_ that introduced him to a life of adventure and a job that seems perfectly made for him?

-

Sehyeong joins the mafia at age fifteen, mesmerized by the smile of a thirteen-year-old Hyukkyu.

“Hey,” Hyukkyu had said to him, eyes sleepy and half-lidded in characteristically careless fashion. “You’re good at soccer.”

“Thanks,” he’d said back, not stopping his stride as he punts another shot into the goal. As he'd reached to grab another ball out of the bag by his side, though, he'd found himself staring at a kid around his age sitting on the bag, casually spinning a gun around a finger.

“Yo,” the kid had said, Cheshire Cat grin at full force. “Want to play a game?”

-

Hyukkyu is a first-year with a bit of a reputation of being a crybaby. He also turns out to be the chosen successor of the Vongola family, the oldest and most prestigious of Italian mafia families, and the kid, Seungbin, his assigned home tutor.

Back then, Sehyeong had no idea what that meant—all he knew was that Hyukkyu was a cute kid that he enjoyed doting on, paying for his meals every so often and beating up the continuous line of idiots that tried to challenge Hyukkyu for his future position. So when Hyukkyu had handed him a ring and asked him to be one of his Guardians, Sehyeong had accepted it without a thought, sliding the ring onto his hand and wondering at how nice and snug it felt around his finger.

It’d been around then—when the rings had come out and Hyukkyu had gathered together all his Guardians—when things had started to get _weird_.

He learned that when he concentrated hard enough, he could get his ring to spit out fire, could imbue his weapons with a flame that could cause things to degenerate—that Hyukkyu was something like the second coming of God, someone who could lay death and destruction anywhere he so chose.

Also weather puns. For some godforsaken reason, Seungbin was a huge proponent of weather puns.

- 

(And how Sehyeong and Inkyu met?

Inkyu’s kind of a dick when he meets him—but, to be fair, Sehyeong’s not the greatest person either. Inkyu goes to some prep school nearby and has been childhood friends with Hyukkyu since elementary school, and he eyes Sehyeong with a suspicion that is completely unjustified. Hyukkyu introduces them at his house with an unsure smile while Seungbin keeps grinning by his side

“Choi Inkyu, Rain Guardian, Cho Sehyeong, Storm Guardian,” Hyukkyu says. “You’re around the same age, actually.”

“Nah,” Seungbin says casually. “Inkyu’s older.”

Inkyu’s birthday falls before the Lunar New Year, which technically makes him Sehyeong’s elder. _Technically_.

“You use a battle hammer,” Inkyu says with enough disdain and condescension it almost makes Sehyeong gag. “How subtle.”

“Thanks,” Sehyeong says, and with all the sarcasm he can muster, “ _Hyung_.”

He finds out that Inkyu has superb aim and that his cards are _really fucking sharp_ , and a hammer is only really capable of blocking so much. They might have killed each other then if Hyukkyu and Seungbin hadn’t intervened—and if Dayoon hadn’t punched a hole through the fence out of pure enthusiasm.) 

-

Eight years later, and they’ve seen Hyukkyu through university and his succession ceremony, and Seungbin explains to him that no, he can’t keep the boring corporate job he found for himself in Seoul because he’s moving over to Italy with the rest of them to help run the mafia.

So he ends up in Italy, servants bowing at his feet and calling him _sir_ while he frantically tries to learn the language. And, stuck in a foreign country with only Hyukkyu and the other Guardians for company?

They were already close friends, but that was when they became a family.

-

But enough backstory.

Sehyeong presses himself against the wall, hoping beyond all odds that none of the men from the rival family searching for him are diligent enough to completely scour the area. He’d like to think he’s outgrown his youthful arrogance and overconfidence through the years, but the gunshot wound in his side begs to differ. Ever since discovering he can stop bullets or render them useless with his ring and weapons, he’s underestimated regular weapons.

Never again.

“Hey, I see something over there!”

He can hear the footsteps nearing him already, and he winces as he feels for the hammer by his side. He doesn’t exactly have the strength to fully lift it, but if he can manage even just an inch, he can at least try to make a worthy last stand—

He feels the rain before he sees a bright red jacket float into sight, can already hear Seungbin in his mind, cackling out, “When it storms, it rains!”

“You’re a mess,” Inkyu says to him, flicking a few cards to down the men flooding into the alleyway. He lightly pokes at Sehyeong’s side with a foot. “Can you move?”

Sehyeong tries moving and immediately seizes up from the pain. “No,” he says tightly. “How’d you even know I was here?”

“I could hear your stupid laugh from miles away,” Inkyu says, reaching into his pocket to draw out his phone. “It’ll be a few before Dayoon can get here to heal the wound, but I can dull the pain?”

And from Inkyu? That’s mercy.

“Yes,” he says gratefully, can’t help the moan of relief he lets out when Inkyu lays a hand on his skin and he feels the pain slowly creep away. He hears more than sees Inkyu settle in beside him, with Inkyu shifting him around so his head is in Inkyu’s lap.

“You’re an obstinate, stubborn ass,” Inkyu says fondly, and then more quietly, “Don’t do this again.”

Sehyeong manages a small smile as he feels fingers run through his hair. “I’ll try.”

- 

He wakes up the next morning in his bed at the Vongola house, pillows cushioning him on all sides. He reaches down to touch the bandages around his abdomen—not that they’re really needed, from what he can tell, Dayoon’s flame had healed up most of the damage.

He pushes himself up against the headboard and finds Inkyu sprawled out in a chair beside his bed absently gazing at a newspaper.

“About time,” Inkyu says casually. “It took you long enough.”

It’s an easy way out, a return back to their normal bickering. “You saved me,” he replies instead.

Inkyu looks up from his newspaper. “Yeah,” he says evenly. “I did.”

They stare at each other for a tense moment before Sehyeong shrugs. “Blowjob after Dayoon makes sure I’m okay?”

Inkyu cracks a smile. “Seungbin’s out on a trip this weekend—we can use his room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably a pretty obscure fandom in these parts of ao3, but if anyone's interested in my cast for the rest of the Guardians:
> 
> Sky = Deft  
> Cloud = Looper  
> Rain = Dandy  
> Sun = Spirit  
> Storm = Mata  
> Mist = Acorn  
> Lightning = dade
> 
> Tutor/Reborn: imp  
> Dino: Heart  
> Futa: Pawn  
> Outside Advisor: Homme
> 
> Also, Dandy and cards: [right](https://twitter.com/Only4DanDy/status/674935619357769728) [here.](https://twitter.com/Only4DanDy/status/696915501738385409)


	4. ready, set, go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inkyu is a professional Go player, Sehyeong is a regular office worker looking for lessons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the fact that [Dandy used to play Go](https://twitter.com/Only4DanDy/status/683327172069568513) while waiting in queue back in Korea.
> 
> ...and the fact that I'm a huge [Hikaru no Go](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hikaru_no_Go) fan. Whatever, it's just my all-time favorite manga.

Inkyu loves Go.

After learning the game from his grandfather, he’d enrolled in the Yeon’gusaeng at ten and passed the pro exam at sixteen, rocketing up the standings thereafter. At age ten, he'd decided to dedicate his life to the single-minded pursuit of the game—giving up his free time and weekends to eventually dropping out of junior high.

Inkyu understands sacrifice, is incredibly acquainted with _diligence_ and _perseverance_. He’s spent the past nine years of his life living and breathing Go, removed himself from any semblance of a normal life, studying and practicing at least eight hours a day.

His first year as pro, he sweeps through the domestic tournaments to pick up two titles, and his second year, he wins the Samsung Cup and is automatically promoted up to seventh dan. He reaches the top of the Go world, basking in the glory of it as people clamor for interviews and meetings—only to drop just as fast.

It starts with a few minor tournaments, losing to pros far below his level. His greatest humiliation is in China, though, when he falls in the preliminaries for the Bailing Cup to a Chinese amateur and news of his slump hits international waters.

Inkyu is nineteen, and people are already hypothesizing that he’s reached his peak.

- 

As a rule, Inkyu doesn’t take on private lessons, instead preferring to earn his keep through commentating for matches and other duties that don’t involve teaching. He’s just never been good with teaching—too impatient and unclear for most students wanting to learn. And even if he wasn't horrible at it already, his reputation's in the dumps and most people wanting to hire him are more interested in the novelty of having a failed prodigy teach them. It’s surprisingly more degrading than the usual reason: to be a show-dog for some rich businessman’s party.

But when Sungyeong calls, he makes an exception. It’s been a long time since Sungyeong’s walked the path of Go with Inkyu, because where Inkyu had been one of the few to succeed and pass the stringent pro exams, Sungyeong had given up to attend university.

He meets them at a nearby Go salon, comfortably tucked in a warm sweatshirt and jeans while Sungyeong and his colleague walk in wearing suits with ties tight enough to choke.

“Long time no see,” Sungyeong says easily, greeting Inkyu with a clap on the back.

He bows back, a smile creeping onto his face. “You look well.”

Sungyeong waves over at his colleague, a young man who stares at Inkyu with one eyebrow raised. “That’s Cho Sehyeong. This is Choi Inkyu.”

“You’re really a pro?” Sehyeong asks. “You’re so young.”

Sungyeong immediately starts laughing. “Not younger than you,” he says companionably, although Inkyu is still irked at the rude behavior. “He’s the best player I know.”

Sehyeong still looks skeptical, though, and maybe it’s the slump he’s been in or the stupidly smug way Sehyeong holds himself, but it irritates Inkyu more than usual.

“Let’s play and you can make an informed judgment,” he says, letting the anger simmer just under his skin.

It takes less than fifteen minutes for Inkyu to crush Sehyeong into the ground and another three of Sehyeong passive-aggressively apologizing before Inkyu’s satisfied.

“My supervisor is a huge fan of Go, and Sungyeong suggested you as a teacher,” Sehyeong says.

Sungyeong’s sitting to the side with his arms folded. “Think of it as a favor to me,” he says, then adds, “He’s a fast learner.”

And as a pro who recently dropped out of the LG Cup preliminaries, does he really have much else to do other than struggle through his continuous weekly games?

He looks at Sehyeong, takes in the cocksure smirk and relaxed shoulders. “Fine.”

-

Surprises of all surprises—they don’t get along.

They meet weekly at Inkyu’s apartment, where Sehyeong takes in the interior with a silent but judgmental eye, sitting opposite each other at Inkyu’s goban.

Sehyeong, Inkyu begrudgingly admits, _is_ a fast learner, picking up on the tips Inkyu tells him at a swift pace.

“Your basic knowledge is good,” Inkyu tries. His own mentor had always balanced praise with criticism so well, but that skill hadn’t transferred down. “But all you care about is capturing stones like some land-obsessed conquistador.”

Sehyeong frowns, and then through gritted teeth. “Well then teach me what I _should_ be looking for?”

“Focus on the shape of the stones as a whole.” Inkyu points to their last game of Shidougo, more specifically at the pattern of stones on the top-left most side. “You invaded too deep,” he says. “It’s good to press your advantage, but not too far.”

Sehyeong blinks at him, tilting his head to the side and giving Inkyu a weird glance. “I’m sorry, repeat that?”

“Your stones here,” Inkyu repeats. “They’re too far in enemy territory.”

“But how do I know where ~~just~~ the tip of the boundary lies between me and my opponent?” Sehyeong asks innocently—a little too slick for real sincerity. “How do I know when I’ve—“ His smirk widens. “ _Invaded too_ _deep_?”

Inkyu flushes. “Fuck you,” he says. “I’m trying to teach you.”

“You’re a great teacher,” Sehyeong says, batting his eyelashes in a parody of coyness. “What other _techniques_ do you have in your arsenal?”

“If you’re not going to take this seriously—” Inkyu starts, only to be interrupted when Sehyeong reaches out a hand to place over Inkyu’s.

“I’m not joking,” he says, serious as Inkyu’s ever heard him. “Never with this.”

-

For such an irascible and stubborn personality, Sehyeong has nice hands—long fingers and neatly trimmed nails that slowly become more chipped as they learn to hold the stones properly. His fingers don’t have the same calluses as Inkyu’s—a definite sign that he’s a person disconnected from Inkyu’s world of Go, and it’s refreshing in a way Inkyu hasn’t experienced in years.

There aren’t expectations from Sehyeong, no measured voices talking about their disappointment in the lack of return on his potential—just loud exclamations trying to rile him up and terrible come-ons, unexpectedly sweet comments and unneeded gifts.

They meet up at a Go salon for one of their lessons, an excuse for Inkyu to get out of his house and pretend he has a life and to stop moping over his recent losses. Unfortunately, they choose a place with an overactive AC that leaves him shivering in his thin shirt.

He’s halfway through explaining a particularly complex set of moves in their latest game when Sehyeong sighs and takes off his jacket.

“Here,” he says, offering it up to Inkyu, who looks at it blankly.

“Excuse me?”

“Your shivering is distracting me—and you like red, right? It’s all over your apartment.” Sehyeong asks, pushing the jacket closer to him. “Think of this as a gift.”

It’s a nice jacket, fashionable in a sporty way while still being quite warm, and Inkyu finally takes it from Sehyeong’s hands. “Fine,” he says. “But let me get you something in return.”

He puts on the jacket and tries to ignore the oddly possessive and smug look in Sehyeong’s eyes. “What?” he asks, pulling at a sleeve. “Does it look okay?”

“You always look great,” Sehyeong says, reaches up to adjust Inkyu’s collar before flattening a hand against his chest. “I like how you look in my clothes.”

- 

“I saw your name in the newspaper,” Sehyeong tells him one time, tapping at the edge of the goban as he scans the board. “Something about the Myungin league?”

Inkyu freezes. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “I’m defending my title next week.”

Sehyeong hums in reply, finally setting a stone down. “You don’t sound very excited by the prospect.”

His record’s been less spotty the past few months, but he’s still not up to the same form as a year ago. He’s still slumping.

“No,” he says. “I guess I’m not.”

“You know, Sungyeong told me you were a title holder,” Sehyeong says. “But I never really believed it—not until I looked you up online.”

Inkyu narrows his eyes, asking flatly, “Do I not crush you hard enough while playing?”  
  
“No, you do that plenty well enough,” Sehyeong says. “But you lack—” He stops and shrugs. “You lack confidence?” He shakes his head. “Or, I don’t know, a certain something I expected from someone who’s achieved so much.”

Inkyu glances away toward the board. “It’s been a while since I’ve achieved anything,” he says, bitterness leaking into his tone against his will. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s better to accept my lot and stop while I still have some dignity left.”

He feels a hand against his own and looks up into Sehyeong, who seems surprisingly without pity. “Is this what you thought when you first started? Why did you even go pro?”

And what had drawn Inkyu to Go in the first place—before he’d become intoxicated with the desperation to win and prove his worth to the Go world? When Go had been more than just a job or a way to imprint his name into the records of history?

He’d always been gifted at the game, had an uncanny ability to read ahead and see the possible paths the stones could take. But more than that, he’d been enraptured by the smoothness of the stones against the tips of his fingers; the feeling of creation with every stone he placed on the board.

“I loved the game,” he says quietly. “I didn’t even really care about winning—I just wanted to play a good game.”

“And now?” Sehyeong asks, oddly wise and more serious than Inkyu’s ever seen him as he answers his own question, “You’re afraid of losing.”

And Sehyeong’s right; he’s been frozen by the fear of falling farther—played too cautiously and so unlike the type of Go he’s honed through the years.

 

Later that week, he defends his title by crushing his challenger in a brutal best of five that his fellow players are calling his best set of games yet. "A step closer to the Hand of God," and Inkyu's a little more than proud of that achievement.

He goes home after the last game to find Sehyeong snoring in his bed and sighs at his partner’s laziness. He pulls off the jacket he’s wearing, laying it gently against a chair by the desk—smiling absently at the red color—and wonders what Sehyeong will think when he sees the pictures and realizes Inkyu’s wearing his jacket in them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyyyy, just the tip.


	5. love is a lie, lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inkyu's a pretty average idol in this season's hottest new kpop group, Mata is both a reluctant fan and assistant manager.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have on good authority that [ Dandy apparently looks like pre-debut Baekhyun from EXO](http://atiqaherlina.tumblr.com/post/119622562573/pikaniuu-anyways-i-have-decided-that-dandy-and), so I ran with it. No, I have never been in kpop ficdom, but uh. I tried.

“What’s your ideal type?”

Sehyeong can tell that it must be _hurting_ Inkyu to continue smiling by this segment of the show, but he plays along like the obedient trained dog that he is.

“Oh, gosh,” Inkyu says, laugh light and breezy and perfect as always. “I’d have to say a pretty girl with long hair.” He has the fucking nerve to wave a hand as he smiles, the giant asshole. “Someone sensitive and soft-spoken.”

By Inkyu’s side, Cheonju covers his mouth while Dayoon coughs into his hand.

“But I think the most important quality,” Inkyu continues, “Is for her to be gentle and loving.”

Dickwad.

They move on to the other members after that, but Sehyeong doesn’t pay their canned answers any mind. They’ve rehearsed these questions—Inkyu’s the only one who’s gone off-script. His answer’s generic enough, mild enough to blend in with the rest of them, but it’s an extremely pointed critique of—

Of Sehyeong.

He meets the group backstage along with Sungyeong, listens along as Sungyeong passes out schedules and helps shuffle them along to their next appointment. They have fifteen minutes before their shuttle, and Sehyeong takes the time to pull Inkyu away into a nearby closet.

“Fuck you,” he says, pushing Inkyu against the door and kissing him senseless. “Sensitive and soft-spoken?” He shifts Inkyu’s shirt down to bite at the skin of his shoulder, voice steadily rising, “ _Gentle and loving_?”

Inkyu laughs in reply, tilting his head back to allow Sehyeong more room. “I thought you’d enjoy that.”

“You’re an ass,” Sehyeong says, still scowling. He tugs at the hem of Inkyu’s pants. “Now hurry up, we only have ten minutes.”

Inkyu, obstinate and obstructive as always, doesn’t make a move to help him, just keeps up the cheeky smile. “I didn’t realize you wanted my dick so badly.”

Sehyeong stops in his effort to unbutton Inkyu’s pants. “Yes,” he says, as steadily and with as much sarcasm as he can imbue his words with. “You’re so hot. Give it to me, oppa.”

Inkyu starts laughing again, but he helps Sehyeong with his own pants, steps closer until he can get a hand around both their cocks. “It’s okay, you’ll do,” he says airily, pressing his mouth to Sehyeong’s neck and sucking at the skin there. “For now.”

- 

blue/white, after breaking through with their latest album, is the hottest kpop group of the season, and Sehyeong’s the lucky intern following them around.

And to think he’d ended up there on accident.

Partly.

He’s been a reluctant fan of blue/white since their debut, ever since an ex-girlfriend introduced them to him and wouldn’t stop playing their songs until he knew all the lyrics by heart. But she’d always had a bias for Cheonju, the charismatic lead singer with the charming smile and the cute, flirtatious quips, while Sehyeong—

Whenever she’d asked, Sehyeong told her his favorite was Hyukkyu—the usual male favorite—but in all honesty, it’s always been Inkyu.

Inkyu, with his average voice and mediocre dancing and the ridiculous amount of eyeliner, with his overwhelming bluntness and obvious reluctance for the cutesy skits he’s forced to participate in—

It’s Sehyeong’s aesthetic. Whatever.

He and the girlfriend eventually break up for a completely different reason, but Sehyeong doesn’t stop following blue/white. And when he starts looking for internships, he applies to their production company as a Hail Mary and ends up as an assistant to the manager of blue/white and tries to contain his panic.

-

The first day on the job, Sungyeong had introduced him to the group, and he’d tried to pretend he hadn’t religiously followed the group, hadn’t watched all their variety show appearances or read their magazine interviews.

“Is this our new coffee boy?” Inkyu had asked, smirk wide across his face.

“Inkyu!” Cheonju had exclaimed, turning to Sehyeong with an apologetic frown. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Sehyeong had said. Because maybe Inkyu had turned out to be more of a dick than Sehyeong expected, but it humanizes him in a way—and gives Sehyeong an excuse to be as much of an asshole right back. “I’m here to learn what I can; please take care of me.”

And he’s learned plenty; how to network and build contacts and learn to call upon them, how to manufacture situations to collect favors from others, how to tell the exact moment when each of the members had reached their breaking point of exhaustion. And even some things unrelated to administrative side, like the way Inkyu’s face looks when he’s choking on Sehyeong’s cock, or the small sounds Inkyu makes as Sehyeong fucks him into the mattress.

 

They first hook-up after a concert in Busan; they’re the opening act for some e-sports tournament final and end up at a beach, singing from the stage as the crowd drowns out the roar of waves crashing to shore. Sehyeong’s always been a little interested in e-sports—a few of his old friends being video game fanatics, but he hadn’t expected the giant turn-out or the passion from the fans.

They hit the bars after, accompanied by parts of the winning team from the tournament—well, more like one player stalks Hyukkyu and refuses to leave.

“He’s a childhood friend,” Hyukkyu says with the resigned patience of a drowned man, letting Seungbin cling to him like a barnacle. “And I promised to drink with him if he won.”

“You did!” Seungbin slurs, and pours another shot for Hyukkyu. “Aren’t you proud of me?”

“Yes, hyung,” Hyukkyu says, and sighs as Seungbin nuzzles his face against Hyukkyu’s neck.

Sehyeong, for his own part, drinks too much to try and burn out the images of the disgustingly sweet way Seungbin pets at Hyukkyu’s hair, and maybe that excuses why he wakes up in Inkyu’s bed the next morning, ass decidedly sore and bruises littering his neck and shoulder. But it doesn’t excuse why they repeat their trysts until they become a habit Sehyeong’s loath to break.

- 

On the shuttle ride to their next appointment, the rest of the members pointedly ignore the new marks that have appeared on Sehyeong’s neck and the completely unsalvageable mess made of Inkyu’s hair. Cheonju just sighs and gives them a significant look and points to the two seats in the back of the van.

“If you’re going to—” he starts, and Wonseok chokes on the snacks he’s munching on. “At least _try_ to be more punctual next time.”

Inkyu just shrugs, grabbing Sehyeong’s arm and tugging him away before Sehyeong can say anything in reply.

“He’s just jealous he’s not getting any,” Inkyu says, voice pitched just loud enough that Cheonju can overhear.

And, sure enough, he hears a token objection from Cheonju, “ _I do_ , thank you very much.”

They settle into their seats, and Sehyeong sighs as he leans back into the cushions. “I’ve always wondered,” he says, because it’s been three months now and he finally feels brave enough to ask. “Why me?”

-

Inkyu only vaguely remembers being scouted in junior high, but he definitely remembers the comments from his parents and fellow students about his height, his eyes, the shape of his face—and thinks that maybe it was inevitable.

He joins a trainee program and learns how terribly fucking _hard_ it is to be an idol, especially when he has no talent for dancing and is just bearably passable at singing and acting. The make-up girls tell him he’s pretty, though, and layer on the eyeliner so thick that Inkyu swears he can feel the weight on his eyelids.

Practice is grueling, most of his peers are bloodthirsty and untrustworthy, and he constantly feels like he’s _lacking_. He’s too fat, he’s too small, he’s too blunt, he’s too forceful, he’s too—

By the time he finally debuts, Inkyu has the perfect face, the perfect smile, the perfect laugh, the perfect voice, the perfect balance of flirty and innocent, the perfect amount of exhaustion that he can never seem to shake off, no matter how much sleep he gets. It takes them a year or two of tweaking their style and sound before one of their albums hits it _just_ right, and suddenly they become a global sensation with legions of fans that follow them all over the city. Inkyu had thought it’d been hard to be an idol when their fanbase had been little bigger than the sum total of their friends and family—now there’re millions of people scrutinizing his every move and choice in his public life.

He has fans that refuse to admit he’s anything less than a brilliant prodigy who can do no wrong and critics who declare him the least talented waste of space they’d ever laid eyes on. (And there’s Hyukkyu, who only needs to pout and the world would bow at his feet.)

But then there’s Sehyeong, some stupid kid only a year younger and in some hotshot university interning for their manager, who tells him in no uncertain terms that he’s pretty shit at being an idol. Inkyu also finds out through Cheonju that Sehyeong has a stash of posters of Inkyu’s face in a closet of his apartment.

 _How_ Cheonju knows that is as good a mystery as any—Inkyu just takes it for granted that his friend is somehow the mystical keeper of all things secret.

Inkyu’s a huge dick to Sehyeong—honestly, he’s pretty dickish to everyone in his private life—but if the difference between Inkyu’s stage personality and his real one affect Sehyeong’s opinion of him, he doesn’t let that show.

“Shut up and practice,” Sehyeong likes to tell him. “We can’t afford any more autotune.”

“Watching you dance is more painful than sitting through Hyukkyu’s acting,” he says other times, ignoring the pitiful protested, “Hey!” from Hyukkyu in the background.

And then there’s the, “You’re so stupidly pretty it makes me sick sometimes,” he says when he’s drunk—or maybe that’s after they start hooking up.

But after that one concert in Busan, when they’d downed enough soju to reach the truthful drunk phase and Sehyeong had patted him on the shoulder and said, “You were good,” in the most pained and begrudging way possible, Inkyu had pulled him into a corner and kissed him.

-

“You’re honest,” he says with a shrug, looking away as Sehyeong tugs at this shirt.

“That’s not a real answer,” Sehyeong complains. “At least explain.”

Inkyu sighs, and takes a quick survey of the car to make sure the rest of the group are focused on other activities before he pulls in Sehyeong by his tie to quickly kiss him on the mouth. “You have a nice dick,” he says into Sehyeong’s ear, smirking at the flush the words bring to Sehyeong’s cheeks. “And a passable ass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from Run by BTS, a song that is _so goddamn catchy_ and by a group that I have been forcibly introduced to  >>;
> 
> ty e, for helping me with some of the intricacies and teaching me about idols @@; it's all very confusing.


	6. all good things must come to an end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality, where Sehyeong leaves for Royal and Inkyu stays on Vici.

Sehyeong’s loud.

It’s not a bad thing—just something Inkyu’s noticed throughout the years. Sehyeong makes it plain when he’s angry; from the keyboard throwing fits on MVP to the sullen Jayce support rebellion on VG, he’s as blunt as they come. Inkyu’s a little subtler about his, balling his resentment away until it seeps through his pores.

Needless to say, it makes 2015 a shitty year.

“Fuck,” Sehyeong says, and then a little louder, “ _Fuck!”_

He slaps at his keyboard, storming away from his computer toward the kitchen, and Inkyu sighs before he follows him over. He finds Sehyeong rummaging through the fridge until he brings out a bottle of soju, twisting open the top and taking a shot back.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he says, and Inkyu steps forward to gently pry the bottle from Sehyeong’s grasp.

“They need time,” he says, trying for patience and wondering when he became the peacekeeper of the team. “We weren’t immediately amazing when we first started playing, either.”

“I won my first tournament,” Sehyeong says, something he always brings up to be a dick. “It’s near the end of the summer split and have you _seen_ my ADC?” he continues, eyeing the bottle of soju in Inkyu’s hand with too-earnest eyes. “He started the year running into the enemy front line. He’s _still_ running into the enemy front line—I’d do a better fucking job.”

"Don't say that so easily," Inkyu says. His top performance both splits have been pretty abysmal. "It's not always as easy as it looks."

"Your teleports have been terrible, too, and your laning is abysmal.” Sehyeong sighs noisily. “Do I have to do everything on our team?”

Inkyu frowns. “You haven’t been looking the most spectacular, either.”

“Better than you,” Sehyeong retorts, grabbing the bottle from Inkyu’s hands and tipping it back to chug down. After he finishes, he glares at Inkyu, as if daring him to challenge his actions. “I’m going out to see Seungbin,” he says. “I’ll be back later.”

- 

Sehyeong throws his mouse to the ground next time, and Inkyu immediately heads over to his desk to grab him by the arm, dragging him back to their shared bedroom.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Inkyu finally spits out once the door closes behind them.

“Everyone on our team is trash,” Sehyeong says sullenly. “I don’t understand why I haven’t left yet.”

Inkyu takes a deep breath, but the anger in his lungs is too much to contain. “Well, if you want to leave so fucking bad, then _leave_ ,” he yells, because if there’s a time to reach a breaking point, why not after a shitty scrim where Sehyeong had done nothing but rant in Korean to him? “Nothing’s stopping you.”

Sehyeong looks at him, a little surprised. Inkyu doesn’t yell much, so it must’ve caught his attention. “You wouldn’t mind?” he asks. “What about you?”

“If it means I don’t have to listen to you whine anymore?” _If that’s what you really want_ , he doesn’t say—Inkyu shrugs and looks away. “Sure.”

“Oh,” Sehyeong says, and then swallows. “Okay.”

He turns back to the door. “Come out when you’re calm and ready to play again.” He resists the urge to slam the door behind him—the last bit of restraint he has in him.

 

And the thing is, Sehyeong so rarely acts on these impulsive acts. How many times has he threatened to retire or quit? Inkyu’s lost count.

So Inkyu doesn’t take the argument seriously, just expects them to move past it like always—it's not until Sehyeong has his bags packed, readying everything for his move over to RNG that it really hits him.

“You’re leaving,” he says a little incredulously, and Sehyeong shrugs and nods.

“You were right,” Sehyeong says, uncharacteristically quiet. “There’s nothing stopping me, so why not?” He looks up at Inkyu as if he expects Inkyu to say something—but Inkyu’s not sure what. They fuck around sometimes, but it’s not serious; it’s not like Inkyu has any hold over Sehyeong, like he has any right to ask him to stay.

“Good luck,” he says, and wonders at the disappointment and sense of loss in his gut as he watches Sehyeong leave.

- 

The 2016 Spring Split pans out a little better for VG and Inkyu—they make it to play-offs and end up beating LGD, only to fall in quarters. But it’s far better than being forced to fight in the promotional tournament like Inkyu had dreaded they might have had to, and it’s far better than how they did last year—but their loss to WE hits harder than any other.

He couldn’t carry. He’s back at home in the jungle, not playing out of position anymore, but he still can’t fucking carry.

The team gives him a small break before they start scrimming and tryouts, and he plans his flight back to Korea without a second thought.

“Our ride’s here!” Jihoon shouts from the door, and Inkyu takes a moment to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything to bring with him.

From the corner of his eye, he spies the [red jacket](https://twitter.com/Only4DanDy/status/721255703642382336) that rests on the back of his chair like it belongs there—and he stops. He wants to throw it away, wants to take it back to Korea with him, wants to destroy the last bit of Sehyeong he has left in his life, wants to bury his head in it and reminisce about the amazing times he had with Sehyeong—and ends up trapped in indecision.

It had always been a little ill-fitting; too big around the shoulders and loose around his wrists, as if to continuously remind Inkyu of its previous owner. He spares it one last glance, places a hand on the shoulder before he leaves to join Jihoon in the cab to the airport.

-

”Royal Never Give Up, your 2016 LPL Spring Split Champions!”

All the way back in Korea, Inkyu watches Sehyeong lift the trophy with his team and tries to swallow the bitterness flooding his mouth. Sehyeong bounds over to Shi Yu and wraps him in a hug that Inkyu can’t help but think belongs to _him_.

He shuts off his computer and pulls out his phone.

 _Drinks?_ he types to Eojin, grateful when the answer is an immediate yes.

At least he won’t be miserable alone.

 

He and Eojin have never been on the best of terms—their frustration with each other being the main reason for the roster changes between White and Blue in the first place. But after switching teams, and especially after moving to China, that tension had faded. And now, they’ve just watched their old teammates—the ones they had moved with to China, even—win the championship and prove that he and Eojin were burdens they’d managed to excise from their lives.

“I’m happy for Hyeongseok, I mean, it’s his first domestic championship!” Eojin says into his glass, face flushed red and eyes closed. “But I can’t help feeling jealous, too, and weak that I couldn’t be the one to win it with him.”

“His first domestic championship,” Inkyu repeats and laughs. “We never could win one in Korea thanks to you and the rest of Blue continuously team-killing us.”

Eojin smiles wanly. “Well, those times are far behind us now.”

They both pour each other another shot, resting in quiet contemplation before Inkyu speaks up again. “How did it end for you?"

Eojin’s face darkens and he shoots back the glass. “So we’re getting to this part of the night, then?”

Inkyu shrugs. “When else?”

Eojin sighs, gestures at Inkyu to pour him another shot before shooting it back. “We talked about it—I broke it off, all I was doing was bringing him down with my state of mind at the time.” He looks away. “I didn’t deserve him.”

Inkyu pauses, and then tentatively, "Do you ever regret letting him go?”

“Always.” Eojin laughs, harsh and bitter. “Every single fucking day.”

-

“You’re drunk,” Inkyu says, pointing an accusing finger at Eojin. “You’re _shitfaced_ drunk.”

Eojin brushes Inkyu’s hand aside and shrugs. “And so are you.”

"We're pathetic," Inkyu says. “They won without us."

"Yeah." Eojin toys with the rim of his glass, running a finger along the edge. "Back to your place?"

 

They fuck.

There’s little else to say about it—Eojin kisses differently, feels different in his hand, but in the end, they have their fun and finish. With Sehyeong, things had always seemed rushed in a way, as if they were trying to outrun their consciences or not allow themselves enough time to really think things through. Eojin has none of those same compunctions, and he moves slow and sweet in a way that’s almost too much.

Inkyu stares up at the ceiling of his room and laughs. “Let’s never talk about this again.”

“Oh god.” Eojin joins in, bringing a hand up to his face. “Please.”

It was a dumb idea, but not one that Inkyu entirely regrets.

“Want to watch MSI?” Eojin asks. “I’ll bring the drinks.”

Inkyu shakes his head. “I’ll be back in China, then.” He looks over, and tries to temper his tone into nonchalance. “Are you going back?”

Eojin shrugs. “Don’t know yet,” he says. “We’ll see.”

-

The end of his vacation also marks the beginning of MSI, which he ends up attending with Jihoon, watching silently from the crowd as Sehyeong triumphantly walks across the stage with his team, waving his arms out to the crowd.

He thinks back to Eojin, who seemed so fucking _stuck_ on Hyeongseok, and he wonders about the pang of loss he feels as he watches Sehyeong smile. Just one year ago they’d been on the same team but now—but now he tries not to think about what could have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're confused about the red jacket continually appearing throughout this fic; it's basically the [only](https://twitter.com/Only4DanDy/status/701781767485665280) [jacket](https://twitter.com/Only4DanDy/status/685812364587827200) [Dandy](https://twitter.com/Only4DanDy/status/683634189774671872) [seems](https://twitter.com/Only4DanDy/status/683533308404236288) [to](https://twitter.com/Only4DanDy/status/683327172069568513) [own](https://twitter.com/Only4DanDy/status/671220430884089856) (other than his jersey.) And he probably bought it/it belongs to him, but isn't it really fucking tilting to imagine that it actually belongs to Mata?


	7. second chances do exist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inkyu retires and becomes an analyst for MVP, a Korean challenger team. Sehyeong decides to join him as an assistant coach (continuation of previous chapter, all good things must come to an end)

It might be a little ironic that Inkyu ends up at the same organization he started with, but honestly, he's pretty content. His team is a bunch of rookies that worship at his feet, all in awe of the trophies he has under his belt—the World Championship, the OGN Championship, the LPL Championship he clawed so hard to earn.

At twenty-five, he's never felt more old.

He's an analyst for the team, recruited by Sungyeong who, in a bout of revitalization, had accepted an offer from the MVP team fighting for promotion in the Korean Challenger circuit. It's literally right back where they started, with the same company and same tournament, but Sungyeong and Inkyu are so very different now.

"I found an assistant coach," Sungyeong tells him one day. "Treat him well, okay?"

Sungyeong's been talking about retiring for years now and passing his coaching legacy down to a worthy successor. Inkyu had always thought it was a little bullshit—Sungyeong loves the game so much, Inkyu can't see him ever truly leaving the scene. And it's not like finding an assistant is a real sign that he'll leave; it's more a helpful addition to levy the burden thrust upon both his and Inkyu's shoulders.

"Inkyu- _hyung_ ," he hears drawled from behind him, and all the hairs on his arms rise at the sickening tone of voice. He slowly turns, and every instinct in him tells him to run because—

"Hey," Sehyeong says, smirk so fucking wide that Inkyu wants nothing more than to punch it off his face. "Looks like we're back on the same team."

-

If there’s one advantage Inkyu has over his past self, it’s age. He has more patience than he used to, a better gauge on his limits and how much shit he’s willing to take from others. He wants to say he’s matured, grown past the petty arguments and snide, malicious remarks he used to indulge in as a player.

Sehyeong’s always managed to regress him back to acting like a teenager, though.

“China would’ve paid more,” Inkyu says. It’s not even a jab anymore, just a fact; money doesn’t flow nearly as freely in Korea as it does in China. He’d had his own fair share of offers there as well, but after nearly four years abroad, he’s glad to be back home.

“It would have,” Sehyeong says easily. “But I came back for the food, the internet, and, most importantly—” He smiles cheekily. “The people.”

Inkyu is beyond unimpressed by the cheap compliment. “You’ve always been so full of shit.”

Sehyeong seems a little hurt by the accusation, and Inkyu can’t help but feel some schadenfreude. “But it’s true,” Sehyeong says. “Haven’t you missed me, too?”

And of course Inkyu’s missed the stupid ass, but there’s no way in hell he’d ever admit that. He turns away. “No.”

Sehyeong frowns. “Oh.”

-

Sehyeong’s a good coach.

He’s shit at many other things, but he’s a good coach.

Their kids may not agree, considering the sheer amount of nagging and criticism he lays on them even when they win—but it keeps them humble and ever desperate for praise. He and Sehyeong know the dangers of arrogance, and even if it means forcefully crushing their children’s egos, Inkyu refuses to allow them to follow their poor example at 2013 Worlds.

As always, Sehyeong’s hardest on their ADC, the youngest of the group and the most strong-willed of them all.

“Your positioning was horrendous,” Sehyeong scolds. “You can’t just tunnel in on the enemy ADC in teamfights or you’ll lose the fight for everyone.”

The kid frowns and looks down. “Okay,” he says steadily, but Inkyu can tell he’s upset.

“Your laning was good this series,” he offers. “Just make sure you pay more attention.” And because he can’t help it, not with the dejected way the kid looks, “You did well.”

Sehyeong frowns and pulls him aside. “You’re always the nice one,” he complains. “They like you more.”

“Of course they do, I’m naturally nicer,” Inkyu says. “You’re also the ugly one.”

-

The moment Eojin had set foot back in China as a starter for QG, he'd ended up right back in Hyeongseok's arms because—because of course he does. Inkyu's not sure there's anyone who could distract Hyeongseok away from food like Eojin does.

“You’re on different teams,” Inkyu had said, although even he could admit that hadn’t been a great argument at the time. “You’ll face off against each other.”

Eojin, for his part, had just shrugged. “I lost him once,” he’d said. “I’m not going to do that again.”

-

They win the promotion tournament and end up qualifying for Champions for the summer split. Sehyeong runs into the booth with his arms spread wide while Inkyu follows after him at a more sedate pace, watching their kids laugh and cheer.

“You did it!” he yells into their ADC’s ear, kissing his cheek before moving onto their mid.

Inkyu leans against the door to the booth and sighs. “This is where the hard part begins,” he says. “Champions is a whole different ball-game.”

There’s a fire in their eyes, though, and their support stands up, chest puffed up like he hasn’t just turned eighteen. “We’ll be ready.”

They go out for dinner and drinks to celebrate, and Sehyeong spends the whole of it with an arm wrapped around Inkyu’s shoulders. Sehyeong turns to him while the rest of their kids are busy playing a drinking game, leaning his head against Inkyu’s shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

Eojin’s somehow become a fucking ghost haunting his every thought, because his words stream right back in and—

He’s lost Sehyeong once, and he isn’t all that keen on losing him again.

He grabs Sehyeong’s hand, feels a sort of satisfaction from the surprise in Sehyeong’s eyes. “My place.”

-

They show their kids the Royal Road, leading them right through the finals for the summer split. They win in an incredibly stressful reverse sweep, pulling out a victory in a nail-biting series that leaves Inkyu feeling exhilarated even when he hadn’t touched a mouse or keyboard the whole time.

"They’re just like me," Sehyeong says with a wide smile, after he's run to each of their players to gather them into a giant bear hug. He turns to Inkyu, "They take after me, right?"

And it's not like they're married—just because they're back to sleeping together, and Sehyeong's recently moved into his apartment doesn't mean it's _serious_ , okay—or that their players are actually their children—

He watches their kids pick up the trophy one by one to kiss, and the intensity of his nostalgia _hurts_. He remembers how fucking _sweet_ victory had tasted in his mouth that first time during 2013 OGN Spring, when Sehyeong had run to him after the last match to lift him clear off the ground to celebrate their first championship win and the completion of Sehyeong’s own Royal Road. He remembers the feeling of adrenaline thrumming through his veins as he and the rest of MVP Ozone had lined up in front of the crowd and lifted their first trophy together as a team.

“Sure,” he says, sneakily taking Sehyeong’s hand into his and feeling so stupidly daring for doing this on stage with cameras all around, especially when they’re too old to brush the gesture off as generic skinship in a close friendship. Sehyeong looks at him with a wide smile, but he doesn’t pull away, just shifts closer until their bodies hide their clasped hands.

Sehyeong leans in as the last of their players presses a kiss to the trophy, whispering straight into his ear, “I love you.”

Inkyu had always thought that winning a championship would be the peak of his career and happiness, but then White had gone on to win Worlds in one of the biggest landslides ever, and _then_ he’d ended up beating the rest of his old teammates to grab a LPL Championship by the skin of his teeth and earn himself the triple crown, and now—

This, standing on stage and watching a bunch of fresh-faced teenagers, ones that he pushed to work and grow past their limits, bounce around on stage with Sehyeong by his side?

This is his peak.


	8. league gone wild [gone sexual?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sehyeong's still support for Samsung White, Inkyu stars in professional League porn parodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a complained about the lack of sex in the previous chapters, so I decided to overcompensate. here's all the terrible porn you wanted!!
> 
> (just remember, this is what you asked for.)

Maybe it’s because of his profession that constantly requires him to look up information about League, maybe it’s that weird link Seungbin had sent him he’d accidentally clicked on, (or maybe it’s the Rule 34 thread he absolutely does not visit), but for whatever reason, his browser apparently starts to think of League as a fetish.

One day, he’s jerking off to a perfectly normal porn video online, when he finds the weirdest title in his related videos tab: “crybaby ADC comforted by top and jungler [gone sexual??]” and just, _what the fuck_. He clicks on it. _Because who wouldn’t click on that?_ He’s not even really into gay porn, but just—

The video starts innocently enough, with a shot of five skinny teenage guys sitting in front of their monitors, furiously clicking and pressing at their keyboards while League sound effects play in the background. It’s not dissimilar to the set-up of Samsung’s gaming house, even, and Sehyeong might have dismissed the whole thing as a misplaced promotional video if one of the players hadn’t pushed away from their desk and the deep vee to his shirt and the tiny shorts he’s wearing hadn’t made it extremely clear what kind of video this is.

“My team won, only I lost,” he says with a deep frown, tears building up in his eyes. He walks out of the room stiffly, and the camera makes sure to lovingly zoom in on his ass as he leaves. Well, at least Sehyeong knows exactly who the crybaby hinted at the title is going to be.

The other players pause in their pressing of buttons to share a significant look with each other. “I’ll check on him,” one of them reluctantly offers as he brushes a hand through his bangs.

Another player also speaks up, smiling as he slides a sly look at the camera, as if he’s barely restraining his laughter. “I’ll join you.” The camera zooms in as he makes a triumphant fist, staring off into the distance. [“We must help restore Hyukkyu’s mental fortitude!”](https://youtu.be/9RcPwGCLVh0?t=2m54s)

Ah yes, the quality acting Sehyeong watches porn for.

The video cuts to the both of them standing outside some nondescript door as the one with the sly smile and earrings opens the door. “Hyukkyu,” he calls. “We’re here to help.”

Hyukkyu looks up at them, still with tears in his eyes, still looking like a lost baby alpaca. “Cheonju? Inkyu?”

It’s ten minutes in, and there are already too many names and not enough sex for Sehyeong’s taste, so he clicks a little further in on the timebar.

Hyukkyu’s naked now, spread out on the bed for the camera to see, and Sehyeong appreciates the adorably sleepy eyes and the small mouth and a _holy fucking giant cock._ Hyukkyu splays his legs further, and the _monstrous man-eating cock_ flops to the side. “Plant your ward in my jungle.”

 _What the fuck_.

Sehyeong doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, because his own cock is still perfectly interested in this forthcoming “ward placement”, but, just, what the fuck _._ He rewinds it a few moments, just in time to see:

“We’re here to help with your positioning,” the sly smile one says, whipping out his significantly more normal-sized cock. He looks to the side and the camera swivels away, showing the one with the bangs that barely brush past his eyes.

“You’re too easy to gank,” he agrees in monotone.

Hyukkyu opens his mouth, just wide enough to make a perfect ‘o’ that has Sehyeong, and he’s sure the rest of the male population that have watched this video, wanting to stick his dick in. “Help me become an AD Carry that is useful for our team.”

It’s about now when the cheesy, cliché porn music kicks in, and Sehyeong immediately clicks further into the video.

“Cheonju,” Hyukkyu sighs, back to the bed and arms stretched out against the sheets. The camera slowly pans from his face, taking in his breathy whimpers and drawn-out moans, down his chest to his nipples and flat stomach to the—fuck, _fuck,_ Sehyeong is always going to be surprised by the size of that cock.

The camera zooms out so Sehyeong can see the way Cheonju is lazily fucking Hyukkyu, slowly pushing in and out of him with long, smooth strokes. “You’ve opened yourself up for a flank here,” he says, and Sehyeong wants to die a little inside. “This position makes you too easy to catch out.”

“Okay,” Hyukkyu gasps, and there’s a moment of quiet panting as the camera pauses on one angle, as if waiting for something.

“Inkyu,” Cheonju hisses out, and Sehyeong sees the guy with the bangs pop up from the side.

“Oh,” Inkyu says. “Um. Also watch out for engages from the front.”

He shifts Hyukkyu’s leg, so there’s room for him to fit from the side and there’s only one real reason for him to do that but there’s no way—

Inkyu takes Hyukkyu’s cock into his mouth—takes the _titanic hydra_ Sehyeong thinks hysterically—and immediately seems to gag. The camera must also sense the enormity of the situation, because it zooms in and Sehyeong has absolutely no idea why he’s so hard to the image of a pretty boy choking on a monstrous cock.

There’s something about the way his mouth stretches to fit, the sort of desperate and frustrated gleam in his eyes. Sehyeong watches, mesmerized, as Inkyu’s lips slide farther and farther down the cock, the slow bob of his throat as Inkyu tries to swallow, the way Cheonju’s hand presses against Inkyu’s neck to make sure he can’t back off even if he wanted to.

Sehyeong fists his dick and jerks off faster and harder than he’s ever done before, coming in his hands as Cheonju finally lets Inkyu move away only for Hyukkyu to come all over his face, splattering against his cheeks and dripping from his red lips.

“That’s one,” Cheonju says, and Sehyeong had forgotten for a moment what kind of video he was watching. “Let’s see if you can get a double-kill.”

And that doesn’t even make _sense_.

He flips further into the video again, and they’ve switched positions now, Hyukkyu on his hands and knees sucking on Inkyu’s cock while Cheonju continues to fuck him from behind.

“This is a pincer maneuver,” Cheonju explains, and Sehyeong debates muting the volume.

But there’s something enticing about the little whimpers Hyukkyu makes as he’s fucked from both sides, the trembling of his arms as he struggles to keep himself upright. He hears a little gasp that he recognizes as Inkyu and takes in the tight grip he has on Hyukkyu’s hair as he slams into Hyukkyu’s mouth.

It’s too soon for Sehyeong to get it up again—especially for the third time in such a short period—but he skips ahead to see what else the video runs through and finds Inkyu on his back while Cheonju carefully coaches Hyukkyu on how to properly finger him open.

“Fine motor control is extremely important for ADCs,” Cheonju says, and Sehyeong is so _sick_ of these shitty explanations.

Cheonju drizzles more lube over Inkyu’s ass, running his fingers around the perineum before pressing two fingers in. “Now you try,” Cheonju says, and Hyukkyu tentatively raises two fingers of his own to push in alongside.

The camera cuts to a picture of Inkyu’s face, eyes closed and breathing heavily. Sehyeong hears a low moan, and the camera quickly cuts back to show the way Inkyu’s hips push back into Cheonju’s and Hyukkyu’s fingers, and _god_ , he doesn’t care about the premise of the video anymore because this is stupdily scorching hot.

The next part is predictable, ending in Cheonju fucking Inkyu while Hyukkyu jerks off to the side—and while Sehyeong’s a little disappointed it’s not Hyukkyu fucking Inkyu with that gigantic cock of his, he understands that the thing might kill someone without enough preparation.

He downloads the video, saving it in a sneakily named folder called _teamfight vods._

-

The production values of the video had been pretty poor, but Sehyeong appreciates the heart and effort the actors seem to put into their craft. It’s enough that he actually tries looking for more in the series and finds that most of the videos are online and easy enough to access. But there are a few that are DVD only, which is how he ends up in a seedy store with an armful of DVDs he’s not even sure he has the appropriate equipment to play.

He steals Seungbin’s shitty DVD player and watches trainwreck after trainwreck of terribly acted professional League porn parodies with names like, “support teaching adc about aggressive laning [gone sexual??]” and “mid and jungle wrestle over shotcalling [gone sexual???].” That doesn’t stop them from being stupidly hot or Sehyeong from continuing to watch them with peculiar regularity.

There’s one thing that does bug him, though, because there is always, _always_ , at least one scene of the five of them ineffectually clicking and pressing at their keyboards and mice like the game somehow plays an actual important role in these movies. Sehyeong had always thought it’d been a way to set the scene, so to speak, until one time the camera actually pans to one of the screens to display the game and he sees their gameplay.

They’re not bad. They’re actually pretty good.

And then one time, he finds a game where they’re— _he’s in that game_ , and suddenly his world tilts a little.

These guys are in Challenger.

He’s played them before, interacted with them before they fucked each other senseless. He hadn’t looked all too closely at their tagnames before, but now that he knows they’re in Challenger? They’re all too familiar.

Before, he’d skipped the beginnings other than to laugh at a few of the terrible innuendos, but now he rewatches the old videos for the short depictions of their games. They all have good mechanics, and their team-fighting on the rift is just as phenomenal as it is in real life.

Sehyeong starts taking notes about their positioning, no innuendo at all, and wonders just how fucked up he’s become to be watching porn for the League tactics.

-

“You spend all your time watching porn,” Seungbin complains to him. “You’re not even jerking off to it.”

“I jerk off to it,” Sehyeong says defensively, and then wonders at his wording. “And what do you mean? I practice more than you do.”

“At least show me what you’re watching then, it’s my DVD player.” And it’s pretty hard to resist Seungbin, especially when he starts whining like a brat, so Sehyeong sighs and does.

“Huh.” Seungbin says as the video stops playing. “I can see the appeal.”

Sehyeong raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Seungbin waves a hand. “He was in a skirt, close enough.” Because Sehyeong had shown him the slightly easier to explain one, “ ‘fangirl’ caught sneaking into gaming house [gone sexual?]” and he really starts to wonder who’s naming these things, because why did every title have to end in [gone sexual?] with varying amounts of question marks?

He’s not surprised that Seungbin found Hyukkyu to be the drawing point, he figures most viewers do considering how often Hyukkyu appears in the videos, but Sehyeong’s still stuck on that one image of Inkyu choking on Hyukkyu’s cock from the first video.

Still stuck on that other video “jungler caught behind enemy lines [gone sexual??]” where Inkyu had been tied down to bed and the rest of the team had taken turns to thoroughly fuck him one-by-one.

“We have a pick composition,” Gwanhyung says, face flushed a dull red while he rubs his cock along the line of Inkyu’s ass. “You should’ve known we would collapse.”

“Bad positioning,” Cheonju agrees, and straddles Inkyu’s chest, shuffling forward until his cock is right against Inkyu’s lips. “We have to punish that.”

And fortunately, the terrible innuendo stops as they start to fuck Inkyu in earnest, and all Sehyeong can hear are heavy pants and some satisfied sighing. The camera switches to focus on the way Inkyu struggles to keep his mouth open wide enough for Cheonju, to the way his hips jerk against Gwanhyung’s absurdly slow and teasing pace. He keeps drawing out, running his cock against the edge of Inkyu’s hole a few times, before pushing back in, and Sehyeong can see the way Inkyu’s arms and legs tense from pulling at their bindings.

Gwanhyung makes sure to make a show of coming deep in Inkyu, pulling out and pushing a few fingers in to draw out his handiwork. Next, it’s Eojin, who’s not nearly as patient or nice, fucking in rapidly until he comes and repeats Gwanhyung’s maneuver, roughly stretching out Inkyu’s hole as he does.

Cheonju had finished around the same time as Eojin, but he aims his onto Inkyu’s chest and makes a big show of gathering his come into his hands and stuffing it into Inkyu’s hole.

And then it’s Hyukkyu—Hyukkyu with the fucking _giant_ cock—and Sehyeong watches with wide eyes as he slowly sinks his way into Inkyu. Even with all the stretching from before, Inkyu still winces at the size and his cock wanes a little, but Hyukkyu just gathers it in his hand to slowly stroke in time with his thrusts. “You knew this would happen if you invaded,” Cheonju says. “Didn’t you come into our jungle looking for this?”

At no reply, Cheonju places a hand on Hyukkyu’s thigh, and he stops in his movements. Inkyu blearily raises his head to look up, and Cheonju repeats, “Were you looking for this?”

“Yes,” Inkyu says in the smallest, most broken whisper, and then a little louder, with a small shove of his hips. “Please.”

_Fuck._

Hyukkyu starts moving again, and Inkyu shuts his eyes and moans and just _takes_ it.

“Good boy,” Cheonju coos, running a hand through Inkyu’s hair. “Be more aware of your pathing.” He looks to the side, playing with one of Inkyu’s handcuffs, and Sehyeong _knows_ what’s going to happen but he’s not fast enough to stop it, “How’s that for chain CC?”

That’s right about when Sehyeong’s boner flags.

- 

“Let me donate this buff to you,” Inkyu reads off the script, and then stops and looks to the side. “Really, Cheonju?”

Eojin looks just as unimpressed underneath him. “When did Inkyu’s cock become a buff?” he asks. “It does more harm than good.”

Inkyu frowns and lightly punches him in the ribs. “You’re going to be begging for it later.”

“For your hard CC,” Eojin agrees, and they both shudder. He and Eojin have their differences, but there’s a sort of solidarity between them when dealing with Cheonju’s creative wording.

“Also, do I have to wear these?” Inkyu lifts the cat ear headband with one finger, eyeing it distastefully. “I mean, you’re not forcing Hyukkyu to cosplay as Vayne.”

Cheonju’s eyes light up, and Hyukkyu immediately protests. “I’ve already worn a skirt before. And Ezreal is my favorite champion.”

If anything, Cheonju’s eyes seem to brighten, and he turns to Gwanhyung.

“I’m not dressing up as Taric,” Gwanhyung immediately says. “And that’s such an outdated botlane.”

“You guys are no fun,” Cheonju says. “How are we supposed to distinguish ourselves from the rest of the professional League porn?”

“There _is_ no other professional League porn,” Eojin says at the same as Inkyu snorts. “With your riveting dialogue.”

They share another look; this sort of thing is happening frighteningly often now. Cheonju sighs. “If only you guys had that kind of synergy in bed.” He waves at them. “All right, read from the top?”

Inkyu takes one last look at the offending cat ear headband in his hand before sighing and sliding it into place on his head. “No one can escape my snare,” he says reluctantly, lifting a weak-looking rope net.

Eojin stares hard at the script. “I don't even play Syndra,” he says, but at Cheonju’s glare he continues. “I’ll—” he chokes. “I'll cover you with my balls.”

-

He’s waiting near the stadium for Seungbin to finish with the restroom so they can go get dinner when he feels someone tap him on his shoulder. He turns to find himself face to face with—with _the guy he totally doesn’t jerk off to._

“Hi,” Inkyu says, and Sehyeong blinks and tries really hard not to panic. He holds up a card that Sehyeong recognizes as his own. “I think you dropped this.”

“Um,” Sehyeong takes the card from Inkyu’s hands and tries not to think of what Inkyu’s face looks like when he’s about to come, when he has his mouth around another man’s cock. He swallows nervously, throat dry. “Thanks.”

Inkyu blinks before tilting his head to the side. “Wait, aren’t you—”

A terrible voyeur? Had Sehyeong been spotted out buying his DVDs or something equally nefarious—

“You’re Mata!” Inkyu says with a bright smile. “The support for Samsung White, right? I’m a fan.”

 _So am I_ , he thinks but doesn’t say, instead putting on what he hopes is a convincing smile. “Yeah.”

Inkyu knows the team he plays on. Inkyu knows _him_.

 _Inkyu is a fan_.

“Can I get a picture?” Inkyu asks, taking out his phone, and Sehyeong can only nod dumbly as Inkyu moves to stand by his side and wraps an arm around him to take a selca. Sehyeong’s sure his smile is weak, that he has an undoubtedly frightened look in his eyes, and that’s when Seungbin calls out from behind him.

“Sehyeong, let’s go!”

He turns along with Inkyu, and sees Seungbin’s eyes widen, because he must recognize Inkyu’s face, and he smirks. “Found yourself a new boyfriend?”

Sehyeong flushes, catches a hint of red along Inkyu’s cheeks as well. “He’s a fan,” he says gruffly.

Seungbin shrugs. “Close enough.” He skips closer. “We were about to get dinner, want to join us?”

“Uh.” Inkyu looks back at him as if for reassurance, and Sehyeong shrugs.

“Sure,” he says, even as he’s screaming inside. “If you’re free.”

Seungbin doesn’t give Inkyu a chance to refuse, grabbing him by the arm. “Gu Seungbin,” he introduces. “Sehyeong’s obedient ADC.”

Inkyu blinks. “Choi Inkyu,” he says slowly, and _holy shit_ , he’s been using his real name in porn, although it’s not like the movies are really big and he just uses his given name. “A Samsung White fan?”

“If you want, we can probably sneak you into our gaming house,” Seungbin says with a wink, the little _ass_.

“Uh,” Inkyu says, sounding at a loss. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evidence for [Deft's giant (heimer)donger](https://www.reddit.com/r/leagueoflegends/comments/37ipax/imps_ama_translated/)

**Author's Note:**

> technically, it's still 5/14 in my timezone, but okay, okay, it's 5/15 in CST, here's your dumb gift.


End file.
